The Story of Sakuro
by X-WolfHunter
Summary: Follows Sakuro, a young firebender, as he searches for peace and a good life - away from the Fire Nation.
1. Sakuro

This is the story of a conflicted man. One who's journey began as a child. His name was Sakuro, and he was a firebender.

You see, his father was a firebender of great power and skill, and very high-ranking in the Fire Nation army. As such, Sakuro received firebending training from a very young age – almost before he could walk. He was very naturally skilled, and grew quickly into a powerful bender. But when he was eleven years old, his father was killed in a pitched battle in the Earth Kingdom. Enveloped with rage, Sakuro trained with a vengeance until he was fifteen – old enough to join the army. He grew quickly in ranks, his rage and hatred for the earthbenders giving him good reason to be promoted – not to mention his bending prowess and power. While never able to master the more subtle aspects of firebending, Sakuro's skill in simply hurling flame was nearly unmatched, his rage fueling his powerful strikes and overwhelming his enemies.

When he reached a great enough rank to lead his own soldiers by himself, only two years after joining the army, Sakuro burned many earth kingdom towns to the ground, and any who were in them. For this reason, and uncorrupted Fire Nation general pulled him from the army, seeing his young age in turmoil and knowing he could be saved. The general sent him to a giant mountain deep in the fire nation to be kept in the care of an very old, very wise firebending guru. For three years, the guru worked with Sakuro, first healing him of the grief and rage that consumed him from his father's death, and then teaching him the true meaning of firebending. Soon, Sakuro grew even further in power and skill. He learned great powers from the guru – he learned to fling lightning from his fingertips, to launch bombs from his palms, and many other great powers besides. Most importantly, he learned how to control his power, and respect it for what it was. He also in this time mastered the more subtle parts of firebending and fighting in general, as well as being imprinted with the philosophy of learning such great skills in order to not have to fight instead of specifically to fight. However, his time of learning came to an end, and the Fire Nation knew his value, and came to the mountain, seeking to pull him back into the army. Sakuro knew he could not rejoin the army; he was a healed and changed man, and he saw that the war was twisted and evil. So he escaped the mountain with only the clothes on his back and his Jian sword, traveling to the earth kingdom to travel the lands and try and find peace.

This is where his story begins.


	2. A New Life

Sakuro sighed as he stepped off of the small ferry boat onto a sandy beach on the far eastern shores of the Earth Kingdom. Ten other people exited the boat with him, all poor Fire Nation folk wanting to try and make a better living in the colonies. Sakuro shouldered his pack higher onto his back, tightened the straps, and began walking.

"Aren't you coming with us to Basho?" one of the others said. Basho was a small colony that was growing in size every year, only a day or two away from the beach Sakura was on.

"No," Sakura said concisely before continuing to walk away, to the south.

After he came to the end of the beach, Sakura walked into a small forest and continued south; according to the map he had bought in the Fire Nation, there was a town a few days away where he could get work and collect his thoughts. Until then, all he had was a small knife, his Jian sword, a bedroll, some spark rocks - he knew he'd need to both keep his bending powers a secret in the Earth Kingdom and also start fires - and the map of the world. His plan was simple: Evade the Fire Nation, since he was sure they'd look for him, as he was valuable to them, and keep moving. He wasn't sure where he was heading, but he hoped that he'd know when he got there, something his master had taught him in the three years he had been with him.

His master. It had pained him to leave the small monastery on the mountain, but the only other choice he'd have had was killing the soldiers who wanted to take him back to the army - but that was a terrible idea, and his master would not have condoned it anyway. So he left. His master had given him a small bag of Fire Nation coin that he'd kept for who-knows-how-many years, which was one of the most touching things in his life; his master, a true guru, discarder of worldly possessions, had saved a bag of coin for someone else's needs.

After he earned a large enough sum of money, he would move on to who-knows-where – though he knew he'd figure it out before then. And if not, the life of a nomad had always interested him. Just go where the wind blew him.

As these thoughts were being mulled over in his head, Sakuro didn't notice when three shadowy figures detached themselves from the shade of the trees beside him and moved onto the road. By the time he noticed them, they were already surrounding him. Sakuro looked up and saw the three, shabbily-dressed, dagger-weilding highwaymen.

"Give us your sword, your pack, and any money you have on you," the one in front said, "and we may let you live."

"I don't think this will go as you planned," said Sakuro calmly. "You won't be getting my stuff. However, if you have any amount of trust for strangers in you, you'll not try and mug me."

"Why? There's one of you, three of us. Just be quick and give us your stuff, now."

"No. Now please leave me be." Sakuro kept his eyes moving constantly between the three figures, just in case one were to strike.

"He's had his chance. Kill him!" one of the ones behind Sakuro barked. As he said that, he began to jab his dagger at Sakuro, who reacted quickly. Grabbing the thugs arm, Sakuro pulled hard and swept his leg beneath the falling mugger's two. Keeping balanced and staying in form, Sakuro watched as the highwayman toppled to the ground. The other two swiped their daggers at him; it was a simple matter to intertwine his arms into theirs and flip them on their backs. Leaving them like that, Sakuro began walking away. He didn't look back.

Hours later, he crested a hill and looked down to see a small, dirty-looking village. While small and rather poor-looking, there was no shortage of hustle-and-bustle, and by the looks of it, there was also no shortage of want for extra helping hands. So Sakuro shrugged his shoulders and began to descend to the village, ready for the start of his new life.

* * *

A lean, muscular masked man in a tight-fitting black and red combat suit – not even slightly resembling the typical Fire Nation army suits – with a Katana strapped to his back and many other weapons attached to his waist leaned against the railing of a Fire Navy cruiser.

"Sir. We are approaching the beach. There is the ferry he took," a high-ranking Fire Nation officer said as he pointed to a small boat coming towards their ship.

"Good. Send out a small force to interrogate the ship's crew. And send another force to capture those refugees on the beach and interrogate them too," the masked man said quietly.

"Yes, sir," the officer said. He bowed and backed away.

"You aren't getting away that easily, Sakuro," the masked man whispered, staring at the coastline with fierce eyes.


	3. The Job

The masked and suited-for-combat man stared out at the small ferry boat Sakuro had taken to the Earth Kingdom. He had ordered for all of the refugees to be placed on the boat and to set it on fire in the middle of the ocean. He heard their burning screams and thought it only right that they should pay for not apprehending Sakuro.

"Hori?" The masked man turned sharply around at the mention of his name. Nobody on his ship knew it, he thought. Then he saw that it was the captain. The masked man, Hori, quickly put the captain into a very painful submission and whispered menacingly into his ear: "Don't ever say my name on this ship. You call me Admiral or General, understand?"

"Yes . . . Admiral," the captain whispered, pain clear in his voice.

"How do you know my name?" Hori whispered, even more menacingly this time, increasing the strength of his hold. The captain whimpered in pain.

"I . . . trained you when you . . . were young . . . in the art of . . . the Katana."

Hori's eyes widened behind his mask and he released the captain, who fell to the floor. Hori sought out quickly the Katana strapped to the back of the captain.

"Only firebenders can be officers!" Hori said angrily.

"Look at yourself, Admiral," the captain said as he stood.

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to make sure it was you . . ."

"Get back to the bridge where you belong, captain, and don't let me see you stray from it." Hori growled. "And weigh anchor. It's time we go ashore."

(Break)

Sakuro was slammed into the ground once more in the town dojo, his arm twisted painfully behind him in a submission from the local sensei. Sakuro knew that the sensei was skilled, but nowhere near the skill level of Sakruo himself. But it was his job now. He was the demonstration dummy of the dojo, for the sensei to show new techniques to his pupils on. It was easy work, paid well, and he had his own lodging in the dojo, not to mention the half-priced beginner classes – not like he needed them. All he had to do was pay for his food and clothes, and he made a decent amount of money.

Back in the present, Sakuro's face was smushed against the cold bamboo floor. The sensei wasn't holding back at all with the pressure of the hold, and Sakuro's arm was beginning to hurt a lot. He feared that he might receive an injury, so he grunted to the sensei.

"Could you ease up on the pressure, sensei?"

"Ha ha! He wants me to ease up on the pressure! Tell me, class, do we ease up on our holds' pressure?" the sensei said, slightly increasing the hold's pressure as he did so. Sakuro's arm was raked with pain as the class shouted, "No, sensei!" in unison. Sakuro decided he couldn't take it any more. He sharply twisted his torso around, alleviating the pressure on his arm. Swinging his arm around, he slid one of the sensei's feet slightly. As the sensei shifted his position to regain balance, Sakuro twisted the arm the sensei was holding on to, breaking the sensei's grip and allowing Sakuro to grab his wrist and pull him to ground. Sakuro fluidly stood up and looked at the sensei on the ground, massaging his arm where it had been hurt. The class grew silent. The sensei stood up angrily.

"How dare you attempt to make me a fool?" he snapped. "You need to be taught a lesson in respect and humility." He took on a fighting stance of some obscure style and lashed one of his fists out at Sakuro, who simply bent his torso backward so that the fist stopped short of its target.

"I don't want to fight you," said Sakuro as he dodged two more punches. "Your hold was too tight, so I got out of it. Your pupils have now not only learned how to put someone in that hold, but to get out of it too!" Sakuro deftly brushed a kick to the side and slapped his forearm onto the crook of the sensei's elbow as he punched at Sakuro, effectively stopping the blow. Sakuro pushed the sensei backward to disengage as the sensei took on a new fury.

"No! You did not use Bak Mei! It is useless!" the sensei said.

"Obviously it wasn't useless," Sakuro muttered. The sensei heard him and gave a shout, launching a new flurry of attacks at Sakuro. Finally, Sakuro grew tired – not physically – of the sensei and hooked his arms in the other's, swinging him swiftly and releasing him. He fell to the ground and Sakuro leapt on him, trapping his limbs beneath his skillfully places legs.

"Do you yield?" Sakuro asked, snapping his fist into a ready-to-punch-position. While he had no intention of actually punching the sensei, Sakuro wanted the sensei to stop his unbecoming attack.

"No! Bak Mei is the ultimate fighting style! You cannot defeat me!" the sensei spluttered. Sakuro looked at the students, transfixed in horror as their beloved sensei was easily beaten by a young man from nowhere. They hadn't even given thought to the fact that they could've provided trouble for Sakuro if they all ganged up on him, even though Sakuro knew he could fight all of them and win.

"If you say so." Sakuro sighed and stood up. One of the students ran out of the building to who-knows-where. Sakuro sighed again. Probably the local authorities.

(Break)

Hori stood on the beach and looked to the south, where he knew Sakuro had gone. He turned to his small force of Fire Nation soldiers. He'd take them to the town where Sakuro would most likely be, have them burn it to the ground, and then go by himself after that – he knew Sakuro would not be caught in the first town he was found in. No, it wasn't going to be that easy, and Hori knew it. This would be his most difficult mission yet. Never before had he been told to track down a Fire Nation Army elite. It would be difficult, but he would do it.

He told his soldiers to march. Hours later, he crested a hill and saw a dusty-looking town below that was buzzing with activity.

"Burn the place to the ground," Hori said quietly.

"Sir."


	4. The Attack

Sakuro was meditating in the local holding cell in a corner by himself facing the wall, the other inmates sitting on benches or swinging blows at each other. Sakuro's eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy, as he tried to empty his mind of thought. While he had done it before, he still found it exceptionally difficult to do so, especially in a rowdy, noisy holding cell. He was only to be in the cell for two days, but after that time, he would have to find a new job. He began to wonder what he could do before realizing that he was thinking. He let the thought flutter away like a cloud, and suddenly found himself in the midst of nothingness, his mind clear. He grew suddenly content as his mind was blank. He had done it again!

Suddenly, though, he was forcibly hauled to his feet and whirled around to stare in the face of a rather large and burly man with tattoos all over his body. Angry that the man had disrupted his perfect meditation, Sakuro slid his arms in a circle, breaking the man's grip on him, and then entwined his legs with one of the man's so that when he pushed, he'd be unable to catch himself and topple to the ground. And push Sakuro did.

"What was that for?" the man asked, standing up and rubbing his backside.

"I'm sorry. You messed up my meditation and I lost control of myself. It won't happen again." And with that, Sakuro sat back down and attempted to begin meditating again, but the man gave out a yell customary of one who is kicking. Sakuro rolled to the side and looked up, seeing the man's foot hitting the hard stone wall.

"AAH!" the man yelled, massaging his foot and standing on one leg. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Sakuro swept his leg under the man's, sending him toppling once more to the ground.

"Oof!" he grunted. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get him!" The other inmates growled and leapt at Sakuro, who began utilizing his training in crowd fighting to use his multiple opponents' own bodies against one another, weaving and dodging in and out of their blows until, very quickly, they all lay on the ground nursing wounds.

"Please stop fighting me. I don't want to hurt you any more," Sakuro said. Some of the inmates were standing up, obviously ready to fight, when, suddenly, a giant fireball crashed outside of the jailhouse. They all screamed in fear and huddled up in a corner, each trying to get people between them and the door to the jailhouse. Sakuro sighed. So the Fire Nation had caught up to him. He knew it would happen eventually, but so quickly?

Sakuro grabbed one of the benches and hauled it into the air, smashing it hard on the stone ground so one of the metal legs flew off. Using it like a crowbar, Sakuro broke the lock and ran outside to a hell of soaring and exploding fireballs, all launched from the top of a nearby hill. Sakuro peered up at it and saw a small group of maybe thirty firebenders. They'd probably be pretty skilled, and as a master martial artist, he knew that no warrior should risk his life for a meaningless battle. Knowing he had to vacate the town, Sakuro located his small hut, half-burned from a fireball, and spotted his sword and bag laying by his smoldering cot. He began sprinting towards it and, as it happened, toward the firebenders at the top of the hill, who decided at that time to rush the town instead of simply bombarding it. A lucky blast managed to graze Sakuro, leaving a slight burn, but he knew he was fine. It only hurt a little.

Sakuro reached his hut, the firebenders nearing with every passing second, and quickly belted his Jian sword to his back and shouldering his pack. He leaped out of the hut and quickly analyzed the situation. In a few seconds, the first wave of firebenders would reach him. Already, they were flinging fire in the general direction of the town. He saw on the hill more firebenders, still launching missiles, though fewer, at the town. He then saw the woods to the side, somewhat on fire, and knew that he could easily escape the town.

Then he looked back and saw, on the hill, a man wearing a red-and-black combat outfit and a mask. A katana was strapped to his back, and he stood with the silent, penetrating gaze of a warrior, surveying the happenings in the town. Sakuro knew this would be a bounty hunter, one of the best, sent to hunt and capture him. He also knew that the bounty hunter would want to leave Sakuro a message, the message being the destruction of the town he was in.

So instead of turning his back on the town and letting it burn to the ground, Sakuro drew his sword and calmly stepped into battle.

(Break)

Hori looked from the roof of a building at the fight. He had descended from the hill when he saw resistance forming, but quickly realized he was not needed for the fight. He knew Sakuro would show himself eventually.

As he surveyed the pitiful resistance, falling rapidly, something caught his eye: A flicker or two of movement, and a few falling firebenders. He snapped his head to it and saw a man wielding a Jian sword in earth kingdom peasant garb striking down another firebender. He studied his form and saw that it was nearly flawless, moving smoothly from form to form as he knocked aside the wrist of a firebender about to shoot a blast at him, and then rapped the firebender's temple with the flat of his blade. He watched as the man – Sakuro, he knew – knocked aside a lashing arm and returned with a jab to the stomach. He analyzed his form and style, saw that he was not killing, only knocking out or incapacitating, and knew suddenly that Sakuro was not still a firebender at heart; something had happened that had softened him, weakened him. But Hori was strong, and he would defeat Sakuro and return him to the Fire Nation, where he would become strong again, too. In a way, he would be doing Sakuro a service, as well as making enough money to pave his way in gold.

Sakuro was truly a marvel to watch in battle – some would say his fighting was beautiful. But Hori believed in the effective, not the beautiful. Though you couldn't argue that Sakuro's beauty in fighting was not effective. Confident in his skill with the Katana, and confident that Sakuro wouldn't use firebending, Hori leapt from the rooftop and rolled to absorb the blow and rushed at Sakuro, sword flung behind him in typical Katana charge fashion.

(Break)

Sakuro caught a movement in the corner of his eye and saw the blade of a Katana swooping down at him. Raising his Jian sword to block it, he felt and heard the ringing of the blades that meant, according to popular legend and folk tales, that two master swordsmen of totally differing views were engaged in combat.

Sakuro stared into the eyes of his assailant and saw nothing there but cold, black determination.

Sakuro stared right back.


End file.
